Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Angola and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ash Ra Tempel to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
New York Dolls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roxy Music,
Trumans Water,
Spandau Ballet,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Leaves,
Sun City Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Erasure,
Wings,
Lakeside,
Shuggie Otis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tommy Roe,
Supertramp,
Matthew Bourne,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Offenders,
June of 44,
Sällskapet,
Janne Schatter,
Grey Daturas,
Barrington Levy,
Radiohead,
Jandek,
Boredoms,
Idris Muhammad,
Vainqueur,
Minnie Riperton,
Visage,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q and Not U,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mad Mike,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Theoretical Girls,
The Evens,
Lou Reed,
Nik Kershaw,
MDC,
Rotary Connection,
Yusef Lateef,
Bob Dylan,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Maurizio,
The Cowsills,
Judy Mowatt,
Technova,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gap Band,
Toni Rubio,
L. Decosne,
Soft Cell,
Dual Sessions,
Patti Smith,
Mark Hollis,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.